


Do I Dare?: Junior

by frkmgnt1



Series: Do I Dare series [7]
Category: Final Fantasy XIII
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, DIDDTU?, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Puppy Love, Slice of Life, Unofficial Sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:27:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27377182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frkmgnt1/pseuds/frkmgnt1
Summary: Lightning is going to kill Fang. Absolutely kill her.Lightning has no idea what Fang had been thinking this time, but she also doesn’t care. This time, Fang has gone too damn far.After the events of The Nightmare, Fang shows up at Lightning's door with a surprise.
Relationships: Lightning/Snow Villiers
Series: Do I Dare series [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1864993
Comments: 14
Kudos: 7





	Do I Dare?: Junior

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AmedamaCherry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmedamaCherry/gifts), [danamagic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/danamagic/gifts), [write_error](https://archiveofourown.org/users/write_error/gifts).



> This story was inspired by something Fang says in The Nightmare. I honestly didn't expect it to be this long. I was figuring that it would be closer in size to the Slice of Life scenes (between 4K and 6K words), but it ended up with more plot than I was expecting. 
> 
> Still, I like exploring some of the peaceful, happy moments between Snow and Lightning because once a sequel type plot gets going, the tone will be much closer to DIDDTU and The Nightmare than any of the outtakes or slice of life stories. While I try to mix angst and action and humor and horror (and more recently, smut) into all my works, my longer stories tend to be more serious in tone than most of the one shots in the Do I Dare? Series. 
> 
> There's another smutty SoL in the works, then I promise I'll get back to the serious stuff.  
> Once again, I want to thank anyone who takes the time to read, and especially those who comment. It's your interest in this AU that keeps me inspired to write more. Thank you again!

“He is your friend, your partner, your defender, your dog. You are his life, his love, his leader. He will be yours to the last beat of his heart. You owe it to him to be worthy of such devotion.”  
-Unknown

Do I Dare?  
Junior

Lightning is going to kill Fang. Absolutely kill her. 

Lightning has no idea what Fang had been thinking this time, but she also doesn’t care. This time, Fang has gone too damn far. 

At 11 am, two days after Lightning’s abduction, Fang shows up at her door with a ‘surprise.’

“What is it?”

“Your brains still scrambled, Sunshine? What’s it look like?”

“It looks like a [puppy](https://images.app.goo.gl/VZGW3fEHGyG2Ge8f6).”

“That’s ‘cause he is a puppy. Isn’t he cute?” 

“Sure.” And yes, the puppy is very cute. Aren’t they all cute? Aren’t all baby mammals cute? Lightning is almost positive that nature made infant animals adorable to counter how fucking irritating they can be to sleep deprived adult animals. Like a survival mechanism. Still, Lightning isn’t trying to debate the relative cuteness of this puppy; what she wants to know is: “What’s it doing in my apartment?”

“He’s not an ‘it.’ He’s a ‘he.’” _Another dodge._ Fang is wasting time, like she’s trying to run out some clock right now, and Lightning isn’t having it. “And you’re not a puppy hater, are you, Sunshine?”

“No, I’m not a _puppy hater_. I just don’t understand what this puppy is doing in _my apartment.”_

“I like to think of it as ‘his apartment.’ Seeing as how he’s yours an’ everything.”

And there it is _! “Oh no!”_

“Oh _yes!_ Look at that face. How can you be mean to that face?”

“I’m not being _mean_!” Lightning looks over her shoulder at the closed bedroom door. She’s running out of time here, and Lightning knows exactly what clock Fang is trying to run out, which absolutely cannot happen. “You have to get it—“; Fang raises an eyebrow. “— I mean _him_ – out of here, right now!”

“What’s the problem?” Fang’s mouth curves into a slow, deliberate smirk, and Lightning has no doubt that Fang knows what the problem is. Lightning would bet her gunblade that Fang not only understands her problem, but actually planned on it.

“Go!” Lightning orders, reaching past Fang to grip the doorknob. Fang leans against the door, preventing Lightning from opening it.

“Now, that’s no way to treat a friend, gumdrop! I’m hurt.”

“Not yet, you’re not,” Lightning growls. “But keep pushing me.”

Fang throws back her head and belly laughs at Lightning. “I thought the Doc gave you the all clear yesterday. Maybe you need a second opinion, because you sound pretty delusional right now.”

Lightning feels her eye twitch in aggravation. Something taps her shin, and she looks down to find the puppy sitting at her feet, looking up at her, head tilted as he paws at her over and over.

Goddamn it, but that’s cute.

Lightning hates Fang right now.

Just then, Snow comes out of the bedroom and Lightning knows that it’s all over.

“Oh my God! Look at da puppy!” Snow says, using baby speak. “Isn’t he sho cute? Look at dat face!”

Fang — _the dead woman_ — bursts out laughing at Lightning when Snow drops to the floor and hugs the dog.

“Aw, look at that, Sunshine! The Hero isn’t a puppy hater!”

Snow gasps and asks, “Who hates puppies?” at the same time Lightning insists, “I’m not a puppy hater!”

Fang just snickers at Lightning while Snow eyes both women warily. Snow opts to stay out of the obvious disagreement. “He’s really cute.” The puppy yips, climbing into Snow’s lap and licking his face. “When did you get him, Fang? What’s his name?”

“Just picked him up yesterday, actually. But he’s not mine, Hero.”

“Oh, yeah? Vanille’s then?”

“Nope. He’s yours.” Snow and the puppy both tilt their heads in confusion. “And just to prove it, Sazh has been callin’ ‘im Dumbass Junior.”

Snow looks up at Fang with wide eyes, before giving Lightning one of his heart melting smiles. Fang is a _dead woman!_ _Dead!_ “Mine? _Wow._ I love puppies!”

Lightning feels her aggravation morph into helplessness. This can’t be happening right now!

“DJ,” Snow says. “I like it. What do you think, Deej? Do you like your name?” The puppy’s tail spins in circles, butt wriggling with pure puppy joy as Snow’s big hands pat, scratch and rub him.

Lightning can totally relate to the blissed-out look on the puppy’s face. There are few things in this world that she enjoys more than having Snow’s talented hands all over her body.

“Yesh, you do! You love your name, don’t you Deej? What a good boy! You’re such a good boy! Yesh you are.” The puppy stretches out on his back, tongue lolling out of his mouth, as Snow praises him in ever-increasing baby talk. “Look at what a good puppy you are! Dats right! You’re a good puppy!”

 _“Ssn-o-oh,”_ Lightning whines, hands spread out in helplessness. Arguing will be a pointless exercise in futility, she knows; the moment Snow clapped eyes on the puppy, Lightning lost the battle.

And from the ear-to-ear grin on her face, Fang fucking knew it! The bitch is going down! 

“What, Light?” His smile dissolves into a pout. “Oh, come on, baby! We have to keep him. _Please?_ Look at dat face! He’s so cuuuute! Yesh you are, aren’t you?” Turning back to Lightning with eyes as sad as the puppy’s, Snow asks, “You wouldn’t really throw out a puppy; would you, baby?”

Lightning sighs in defeat, and Snow beams at her, scoops the puppy up into one big hand, plants a kiss beside Lightning’s lips, and walks into the kitchen cuddling the puppy in his big, muscular arms.

Fang finally loses the battle against herself; she doubles over, laughing her ass off at Lightning.

Lightning narrows her eyes at Fang, which only makes the other woman fall to the floor, wrap her arms around her stomach, and cackle.

Through clenched teeth, Lightning promises: “You’re gonna pay for this.”

“Oh, I’m shakin’ in my thigh highs, Sunshine!”

“You’re _done!”_

“You’re welcome!”

Stepping over Fang and yanking open the door, Lightning growls, _“Get out!”_

“Now, now,” Fang tuts. She climbs to her feet, wipes her eyes with the back of one hand, and closes the door with the other. “Don’t be a sore loser.”

Sore loser? Since when are she and Fang fighting? “What the hell did I do to you to deserve this bullshit?”

“Oh, _come on!_ I gave you a dog, not an STD.”

“When did I ever give you the impression that I wanted a dog?”

“Let’s start with the fact that your man is practically a slobbering Golden Retriever!”

“Shut up!” Lightning is not amused. She doesn’t care that she felt her lips twitch; she refuses to be amused by Fang ambushing her, and insulting Snow.

“No. Seriously, think about it: big, pretty eyes, constantly gazing at you; shaggy blond hair; loyal; follows you around everywhere; barks real loud, but secretly, he’s a big softie. Pretty, but dumb—“

“Stop calling him dumb!” Lightning has fucking had it with people constantly insulting Snow, as though he hasn’t earned their respect a hundred times over by now. Sure, Lightning can acknowledge that her ire at least partially stems from her own guilt for the constant potshots that she’s taken at Snow’s intelligence over the past year, but she knows now that she was wrong. Snow may not be an academic, but he’s intuitive, empathetic and the most charismatic person that she knows.

Plus, he’s creative and innovative, as demonstrated by the modifications he made to their kitchen table.

 _Mm. Reinforcements._ Maybe it’s time to double-check Snow’s work. Just in case…

“Oh, untwist your panties! I’m just teasing. You know I love the Hero. Well, I like him alright, anyway.”

“Fang—“

“—Fine! I got the dog to keep an eye on you, all right?”

That admission derails Lightning’s train of thought while deflating her anger. _“What?”_

“Okay, real talk time: if you’d had a dog, that guy never would’ve been able to creep around in this apartment. He’d never have gotten close enough to you to snatch your dirty underwear,” (Lightning hates that she can’t figure out when or how he managed to get his hands on those panties), “let alone jump you in your bed; and he sure as fuck wouldn’t have gotten you out of this apartment without losing a body part.”

“Fang…” Lightning has no clue what to say; she just knows that Fang has overstepped every one of Lightning’s personal boundaries, and made Snow her unwitting accomplice while doing it. It pisses her off, is the point. “I mean, he could’ve just killed the dog.”

“Right, but if he’d done that when he snuck in, he’d have given himself away, wouldn’t he? And if he’d done it the night he took you, you’d have had enough time to grab your weapon.” Lightning wants to argue with her, but she really can’t. Fang’s logic is sound, which only pisses Lightning off even more. “A dog is good security, and _you’re keeping him._ ”

Lightning bristles at Fang’s order. Who exactly does Fang think she’s talking to right now? “Oh, I am, am I?”

“Yeah, you are, Sunshine. Besides, look at your man over there, snuggling that puppy. You really gonna break both their hearts like that? I thought you said that you _weren’t_ a puppy hater.”

“I’m not a puppy hater!” Lightning snaps. “I just…” How does Lightning explain that she’s spent more time in this apartment since she moved to New Eden than she’d spent in her home with Serah for the six years she’d raised her after their parents died. Dogs need attention, and Lightning has never had the time or the energy to spare to take care of a dog. And as soon as she can get herself back into fighting condition, Lightning plans to get back out there to help build and protect the colony.

She has no idea how to say any of that, so instead she asks, “How the hell is a puppy supposed to protect anything? He’s a baby!”

Fang puts her arm around Lightning’s shoulders. “Don’t you worry ‘bout that! Lil’ Dumbass is already housebroken. Give ‘em a couple of weeks, and he’ll protect you with his life. A couple of months, he’ll be full grown, and probably weigh more than you or me.”

“What?” _The fuck you say?_ “How big is he going to get?”

“Oh, he’s gonna be a big one, all right! But I figure you like ‘em big.” Fang smirks at her and Lightning rolls her eyes. “After all, look at Dumbass Senior over there. Don’t get much bigger than him, do they?” Fang waggles her eyebrows at Lightning.

“You have no idea,” Lightning mutters, smirking. Fang’s jaw drops, and Lightning feels pleased that she’s managed to shock her unflappable friend.

“Wow! So it’s like that, is it?” Fang looks Snow up and down. With a raised eyebrow and crooked smirk, Fang says, “Didn’t think you had it in ya, Sunshine.”

“Oh, I have it in me, all right. Every. Single. Day.” Fang lets out a snort loud enough to startle the puppy. Snow casts a wary look their way, and Lightning shakes her head and smiles at him. Snow winks at Lightning before turning his attention back to DJ.

Lightning and Fang watch as Snow plays with the puppy on the kitchen floor. The puppy is already wearing one of Snow’s bandannas around his neck, and Lightning knows that there’s no way that she can get rid of the puppy without breaking Snow’s heart. And that’s something that she just cannot do.

Goddamn it!

“Seriously, Sunshine – Lightning – I want you to keep the dog. These fuckers are still loose, and I’m not joking when I say that I find that freak’s obsession with you incredibly disturbing. I mean it, now. He scares _me_ , so I can just imagine how terrified your Hero feels.” Lightning huffs, aggravated that Fang is once again using Snow against her.

“So until we find them, you have to stop being so goddamn stubborn, yeah?” Lightning grinds her teeth together in frustration. “Oh, come on now! He’s a good pup. And look at them. They’re so happy!” Lightning watches Snow and DJ out of the corner of her eye. Snow’s beaming, radiant in his joy, and Lightning once again feels overwhelmed by how stunning Snow is. Especially when he’s happy. “You know it’ll make the Hero feel better to know that someone else is looking out for you when he can’t.” Chuckling, Fang says, “Besides, your big, hunk-a burning love has already fallen in love with the puppy. You can’t get rid of him now.”

“Good boy! Hey, baby! DJ learned how to sit! Let’s show your mommy what a good boy you are!” At the word ‘mommy,’ Lightning aspirates and chokes on her own spit. Fang pounds Lightning’s back with one hand and snickers into the other. Snow either doesn’t notice, or chooses to pretend he doesn’t, instead focusing on the newest love of his life. “Okay. Sit, DJ.”

It appears that Snow’s charm works on puppies, too. As soon as Snow tells the dog to sit, he straightens up and plants his tiny butt on the floor, tail wagging back and forth fast enough to kick up a breeze. “See, baby? He’s a great dog!” Snow heaps tons of praise on the puppy as he retreats into the kitchen to find treats for him.

“Told ya you’re keeping him,” Fang gloats. She yells, “Bye, Hero! Bye, Dumbass Junior!” as she leaves the apartment. 

Oh yeah. Fang’s a dead woman.

* * *

One of Lightning’s favorite things is the feeling of Snow’s full weight pressing down on her as he works to warm her up and drive her crazy with his talented fingers, sinful mouth, and especially, the slow grind of his hips against hers.

Right now, both of Snow’s hands are under her tank top, plucking and rubbing her nipples, his open mouth works at a particularly sensitive spot just behind and beneath her right ear, and his hips just barely flex against her, teasing Lightning with the promise of the hot, hard cock trapped beneath the silky pants.

Lightning moans out Snow’s name, prompting him to rock against her over and over, murmuring, “Is this what you want, baby?”

Lightning groans, wrapping her legs around Snow’s waist and pressing her feet against his thighs to both encourage and grind up into him.

Snow lifts his hips away from her, whispering, “So impatient.”

“Stop teasing me.”

One hand appears behind her thigh, sliding upward underneath her underwear. He palms her ass, walking his fingers inward, inward… “Who are you kidding, Girl? You love my teasing.” To emphasize his point, his wandering hand settles in a position that allows him to brush his fingertips up and down, back and forth, around and around. Lightning’s breath sticks in her throat, and her entire body’s focus narrows down to the circling of her pelvis as she chases the tips of Snow’s fingers. 

“See?” Snow gloats as he pants against her throat. “What’d I tell you?”

“Snow –“

“I wish you could see how gorgeous you are right now. Flushed pink all over; hot enough to scorch me. Eyes nearly black with lust. Lips plumped and parted, desperate for my tongue. All for me.” Snow traces the tip of his tongue around her open, panting mouth, before slipping it inside and sealing his lips over hers.

Lightning sucks on Snow’s tongue until he groans. She takes the opportunity to flip Snow onto his back, climb on top of him and whip her tank top over her head. Breathless, Snow stares up at her with wide, worshipful eyes. Lightning allows a slow, sexy smile to spread across her face as she traces two fingers from her sternum down to her panties. Pausing there just long enough to watch Snow’s eyes flicker between her eyes, her breasts and her wandering hand, Lightning slides her fingers into her underwear, throws back her head and lets out a long, appreciative moan.

“Oh fuck,” Snow gasps, hips jerking beneath her. “You’re so hot.”

Just as Lightning slips her panties off and her hands into Snow’s silk lounge pants, there’s a hard thump against the closed bedroom door. Lightning and Snow both freeze in confusion until they hear claws raking up and down the outside of the door followed by a pathetic whine.

Lightning huffs, throws herself onto the bed beside Snow and says, “Go. Take your dog out.”

“ _Now?_ You’re kidding, right?” Snow asks, attempting to snatch Lightning’s underwear out of her hands before she can pull them back on.

“Yes, _now!_ No, I’m not kidding.” Lightning gropes around for her tank top before spotting it across the room. Growling in frustration, Lightning pulls a pillow against her naked breasts. “He’s whining now. If you wait, he’ll probably go to the bathroom in the living room, and if that happens, you’re both out of here!” To emphasize her point, DJ chuffs from the other side of the door. Lightning raises her eyebrow at Snow and repeats, “Now!”

“Fine,” he huffs. Dragging his jeans up over his hips, Snow leans over and presses a hot, wet, open-mouthed kiss to her pulse point. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

Lightning hurls the pillow at Snow’s back, growling, “Who said I’m waiting for you?” To prove her point, she slips her hand into her underwear again and lets out a long, pornographic moan.

“But, baby! _That’s not fair!_ ” Snow whines.

“Go!”

Lightning huffs at the ceiling as she listens to Snow happily praise his puppy on their way out to walk.

* * *

When Snow gets back from walking the dog, Lightning’s no longer in the mood for any sort of hanky-panky. Well, she is, but she doesn’t want to be, so that’s that. Snow slips back in the bedroom, back into the bed, and puts his hands and lips on her body.

“Don’t tell me that you finished without me,” Snow jokes.

“I sure did,” Lightning lies, shrugging him off.

“Mm. Come on, baby. Don’t be like that!” Snow traces a finger from the nape of Lightning’s neck to the small of her back; his lips and tongue make the return journey with a series of hot, open-mouthed kisses. From behind her ear, lips and tongue barely brushing against the shell of her ear, he whispers, “Are you really mad at me, Light?”

Lightning rolls her eyes. “No. I’m not mad. The dog just killed the mood, that’s all.”

“Well, getting you in the mood is one of my favorite things,” Snow whispers against her skin, and Lightning shivers. “Come on.”

Lightning turns around and claims Snow’s mouth. Snow’s hands are all over her, and within minutes, Lightning is practically purring in anticipation. Just as Snow peels away her panties and presses a kiss against her inner thigh, the puppy starts barking and crying from the other side of the door.

“Oh, for fuck sake!” Lightning growls. _FANG!_ “I’m going to kill her.”

“Her? DJ is a boy!”

“Not the dog!”

“Oh.” Snow blinks at her before asking: “So, who’s she?”

“Oh, for—! Never mind! Just…just, let the dog in so we can go to sleep.”

“ _Sleep?!_ What do you mean ‘sleep’?”

“Yes, _sleep_. You know, that other thing that we do when we’re in bed.”

“But Light—“

“I’m not having sex while the dog is crying in the living room, and I’m definitely not having sex with the dog in the bedroom. So, we’re going to sleep.”

“He’s fine!” With that, the puppy lets out long, sad howl. Snow looks miserable as he eyes the door.

“Just let him in. He’s only a baby, and I’m not listening to him cry all night.” Lightning gets up, pulls on a pair of pajama pants, throws a folded blanket on the floor for the puppy, and climbs back into bed.

As soon as Snow cracks open the bedroom door, the puppy is through it, running in circles and wriggling with puppy joy. Snow rubs the puppy’s belly and butt for a little while (Lightning is not jealous of a puppy, goddamn it!) then picks him up and puts him on the pile of blankets Lightning laid out for him. Patting the puppy’s head, Snow says, “Good boy, Deej. You go night-night now.”

Lightning can feel the weight of Snow’s glare on her back as he settles on his side of the bed. With a huff, he wraps an arm around her waist and drags her backwards against his body. His fingers worm their way beneath her tank top, and his warm palm settles on her belly. Snow slips one leg between hers, nuzzles her neck, and finally whispers, “Don’t be mad, baby. I’ll make it up to you.”

“I’m not mad,” she mumbles, annoyed at the truth in her words. She can’t be mad at Snow being affectionate and adorable with a sweet little puppy. And Fang fucking knew it.

The bitch!

“Then kiss me goodnight.” Lightning turns her head, intending to give Snow a short, chaste kiss. Instead, she finds her back pressed into the bed, Snow’s hand cupping her face and his tongue swirling inside her mouth until she groans. Snow’s hand slides down her body, hitting every curve on its way down, pausing once it reaches the waist of her pajamas. 

Snow breaks the kiss and whispers, “Are you sure you want to go to sleep?” His fingers slide back and forth along the waistband of her pajamas before tracing the seam of her pants down, settling the heart of his palm against her swollen sex, and pressing just so, rubbing, grinding, undulating and tapping against her until her entire body thrums with tension.

Lightning gasps for air through her parched mouth and throat; Snow uses the leg between hers to spread her thighs apart, and the hand beneath her body to draw her chest upwards. His lips and tongue find her nipples through the thin material of her tank top as his fingers trace up and down in slow sweeps. “Light? I want you so badly.”

Lightning hums.

“I want to make love to you.”

“Mm.” _That sounds so fucking good…_

“Do you want that too, baby?”

“Oh. F—. Hmm. Y-yes.”

That’s all it takes for Snow to rid them both of their clothing, press her back into the bed, hook her knees with his elbows, spread her wide and slide inside her with one, slow, inexorable thrust. When Snow’s hips meet Lightning’s, he pauses, and asks, “Okay?”

Instead of answering him with words, Lightning rolls her hips against his, soft grunts and hums of appreciation – _‘Uh. Mm. Oh. Uh. Uh. Hmm. Ooh. Oh. Snow. Yes.’_ – punctuating his every thrust. Lightning knows that, as much as Snow loves hearing Lightning scream his name in pleasure, it’s the quiet litanies of groans and pleas that really drive him wild. It’s when Lightning closes her eyes and surrenders herself over to the ecstasy that she’s only ever experienced when making love with Snow, that Snow whispers his filthiest, most possessive thoughts and dreams to her.

“Tell me that you’re mine.”

“Uh.”

“You know that I’m yours. All yours.”

“Y-yes.”

“Tell me, then.”

“M-mine.” He groans into her neck, rewarding her with a hip swivel that makes Lightning see stars. “Oh fuck! So good.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh. Oh. Mm.”

“Tell me that I’m the best lover you’ve ever had.”

“Oh God.”

“Come on, baby. Say it.”

“Yes. Oh, fuck yes.” There’s no contest at all. She doesn’t have a vast number of prior lovers, and only two qualified – barely – as relationships. She’d been young and stupid with her first – getting in too deep, too soon, too young – and she’d made it a point to never make that mistake ever again. Still, she’d had few complaints, but even fewer repeat performances, and had been in love with absolutely none of her lovers.

Until Snow.

“No one has ever been this deep inside you before, have they?” A shift of his hips emphasizes his point.

“Nn.”

“That spot right there is mine. No one else has ever touched it,” he grunts, sucking a bruise into her skin.

He’s right. The sexy fucker found several heretofore unknown erogenous zones on her body; not that she’ll admit it.

“Hnn.”

She doesn’t need to admit it, though. He already knows; Snow’s innate enthusiasm, curiosity, and competitive nature, coupled with their insatiable lust for one another, have led to hours of mutual exploration of each other’s bodies. Daily; sometimes multiple times per day. For several weeks.

“And no one ever will,” he growls into her ear, making her shiver.

By now, Lightning is certain that Snow knows her body better than she does.

“Nn. Uh.”

“The first time I slid inside you, I knew you were made for me. That you were mine, and I was yours. We were perfect together, in every way. It was like coming home.”

“Uh. Mm. Oh—“

“Did you feel that too, baby? Like some missing piece finally slotting…” (He thrusts harder, grinding against her), “into place?”

“Fuck.” Only Snow can make filthy talk sound romantic.

“Mm. Good?” _Smug bastard. But, oh fuck, is that good!_ “Relax for me, baby. I wanna get deeper.”

‘Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.”

When Snow lifts her leg and thrusts, he hits every sweet spot. Lightning’s eyes pop open, only to find that she’s staring into an unfamiliar pair of eyes.

Puppy eyes.

“Oh GOD!” she shouts, wrecking Snow’s tempo at exactly the worst possible moment. When Lightning startles, every muscle in her body tenses, pushing Snow over the edge with a gasp and a grunt. Unfortunately for Lightning, the entire fiasco has the opposite effect on her, causing her to lose her tenuous grasp on the peak that she’d been working towards.

The puppy’s face rests between his forepaws, which are, unbelievably, on Lightning’s bed. Snow presses his face to the junction of Lightning’s neck and shoulder, panting against her skin until he recovers enough to speak.

“Sorry. So sorry, baby.”

Lightning shakes her head and says, “It’s okay.” It’s really not, but not because he finished without her. “Look to my left, please.”

Snow lifts his head from her neck, pauses for a moment, then cracks up. Lightning can’t help but be bitter and pissed off right then.

“Oh, ha-ha. Hilarious. Now, get off me.” She pushes at him to emphasize her point.

Snow kisses her throat. “Oh, come on, baby. Don’t be like that.”

Lightning can still hear the laughter in his tone, which only ramps up her ire. “I’m not being _like anything!_ I’m not having sex with the dog in the room. I knew there’d be problems, and I was right.”

Snow seems to take the threat of no more sex in their bedroom seriously enough to at least stop openly laughing at her.

“DJ! Off the bed,” Snow orders. The dog whines but drops back to the floor. “Good boy. Now go back to bed.” The puppy’s whole face droops, but he actually heads back to his blanket. Snow looks down at her, winks, and says, “Now, let me make it up to you, baby.”

Without waiting for an answer, Snow disappears under the blankets and spends a long time making Lightning forget why she was angry in the first place.

* * *

Lightning leaves Snow in bed, opting to pick up a few necessities from the market district before they start their day. DJ doesn’t acknowledge her as she pulls on her clothes, straps on her Edged Carbine, and writes a quick note for Snow in case he wakes up before she returns.

It’s early enough that she expects to be home with breakfast before Snow even rolls over, let alone wakes up. The sun is still below the horizon, though the stars in the Eastern sky are barely visible due to the approaching dawn.

Lightning is the first customer at the bakery, picking out several loaves of Snow’s favorite artisan bread, before stopping by the grocer’s corner shop. Lightning takes her time, picking her way through the produce, grains and dairy, then makes her way to the butcher shop.

“What can I feed to a puppy?” Lightning asks the butcher. Snow fed DJ a small portion of their dinner from the previous night, but Lightning knows that’s no long term solution. Dogs’ nutritional needs differ from those of humans, and while Lightning didn’t ask for the responsibility of raising a puppy, now that he’s living in her home, she has every intention of honoring her obligations.

The Butcher stares at her long enough to make Lightning uncomfortable. Lightning looks around, trying to figure out if there’s someone behind her that’s the actual focus of the Butcher’s stare, when she catches a glimpse of her reflection in the glass of the windows.

Oh. That.

Lightning curses herself for not wearing a scarf this morning to cover the thick, ugly ligature mark around her neck, though nothing short of a Phantom of the Opera mask would hide the hideous blue-black bruise splashed across the left side of her face. Lightning squares her shoulders and says, “It looks worse than it is.”

“Sorry for staring,” the man says, not sounding sorry in the slightest. Then: “Look, Lady, if you need help—“

“I’m good. I’m fine, really. It’s not…It’s nothing like what you’re thinking.”

“Not my business, really.” He shrugs, trying and failing to look unconcerned.

“No. It’s kind of you to think to ask, but I’m okay. Really.”

“If you say so, Lady.” The Butcher definitely doesn’t believe her, but what can either one of them do but let it go? “What did you want again? Puppy food? Yeah, I’ve got just the thing for ya. Lucky for you, I have a little left. This’ll last about a week.” The butcher provides her with a large container of food. “Let’s hope by next week, I find a new supply line.”

“What’s the problem?”

“Where you been?” The butcher asks her, and Lightning just huffs at him.

“I’m new around here.”

“Ah! Shoulda figured. You from one of them outposts? I heard that they rescued some survivors.” Lightning flinches at the mention of the outposts and the camp. She hadn’t realized that what happened had been common knowledge. She realizes that she’s broadcasting her feelings when the butcher says, “Sorry, lady. I shoulda been more tactful. None of my business, really.”

Lightning shakes her head. “No. It’s fine.” She considers denying any connection to the Outposts, before deciding that she prefers that misunderstanding to his presumption that she’s being beaten at home by her partner. Snow comes to this market district, and the idea that anyone would believe him to be, or treat him as some sort of domestic abuser is unacceptable. “I assume that you were procuring your supplies through the outposts?”

“Got it in one. There’s a few ranchers nearby that are raising animals for slaughter, but they’re just starting out. At this point, they’re still trying to learn how to breed their animals and such. Eventually, they’ll have enough to sell at market, but for now, they’re mostly shearing ‘em and milking ‘em. Which is good: milk, cream, cheese, and whey were in real short supply all last year, and the Felter is always lookin’ for good sources of raw fleece. And if winters are gonna be this frigging cold, folks will need all the warm woolen clothes we can get.”

Lightning perks up at the mention of Felters and wool. Lightning’s mother loved knitting, crocheting, needlepoint, and sewing; a passion and hobby that she’d shared with, and passed on to, both her daughters. Serah prefers sewing, spending much of the warmer months last year making the coat, gloves and hat that Snow has been wearing all winter. Lightning, on the other hand, prefers the quiet repetition of knitting, or the complex processes of crocheting; both activities are good distractions for her mind while enhancing her fine motor skills.

“Is there a place I can get yarn around here?” Lightning would love to crochet a soft blanket for the bed; and maybe eventually she’ll knit Snow something cashmere. A nice pair of gloves, or a V-neck, fitted shirt. Preferably blue, to match his eyes.

Mm. Soft cashmere stretched over hard muscles. V-neckline low enough to show a hint of clavicle, and wide enough around the neck to show off the thick muscles and tendons connecting his long throat to his wide, perfect shoulders.

Wait. What was she doing again? Oh yeah.

_Yarn._

The Butcher gives her the side-eye when she apologizes and asks him to repeat himself.

“Uh, yeah, you can get yarn, thread, and several textiles at The Spinning Wheel. It’s right across the way, between the seamstress and the Haberdasher. Can’t miss ‘em.”

“Thank you.” Lightning takes her purchases before asking, “Out of curiosity: what kind of game are you looking for?”

The butcher startles at her question, looking her up and down, eyes widening when he notices her gunblade. He reaches under the counter and withdraws a piece of paper. “You have experience hunting on the Steppe, Lady? Do you know the local animals?”

“I know my way around the Steppe. What are you looking for? Adamantoise? Amphisbaena?”

“Woah! Hey, now! I’m not looking to get anyone killed here, Lady.”

 _Tch…_ “I’ve taken down several of both, but if I’m hunting an animal the size of an Adamantoise, I prefer to make use of as much of the animal as possible. Living on Pulse has taught me not to waste anything. Is there a Tanner around here? Someone who can use the hide?”

The Butcher is nodding before she finishes her question. “Sure. I know someone who might be interested. Intact animal hide that size would make you a mint, and would also cut back on the numbers of wild animals we gotta hunt. Considering how dangerous hunting can be, that can only be a bonus. Let me speak to him. If he can use the hide, I can make use of the meat. I think I know someone who might be interested in the tusks and shell. In the meantime, see if you can get me a Svarog or a Gorgonopsid.”

“To be clear, I’m not killing Adamantoise for the tusks, and if I find out someone is—“

“Nothing like that, Lady. I promise.”

“Fair enough.” The last thing Lightning wants is to encourage any industry that might slaughter the large herbivores, chop off their tusks, and leave their carcasses to rot out on the Steppe. That would both draw more scavenger animals – drawing more predators, thus endangering humans – and it would likely reduce the population of the large herbivores faster than they could possibly replenish themselves. Lightning feels a duty to protect this world, and that includes protecting the animals from extinction and the ecosystems from catastrophe. “When do you need delivery?”

“Two days?”

“Done. I’ll be here in 48 hours.”

“Lady, if you and I can work out an arrangement for supplies, you and your doggie eat free for life, and I’ll see you get a market district discount.”

“I’ll be here Tuesday morning. And the name is Lightning, not Lady.”

* * *

The apartment is still dark and silent when Lightning gets back from the market. Placing her new knitting needles, crochet hook and bag of yarn on her desk for later, Lightning brings the rest of her purchases into the kitchen. Snow will love the bread and jam that she got for him. For a moment, Lightning considers waking him up just so she can watch his eyes close in delight as she feeds him bites of bread and licks the jam from his lips.

One glance at the clock, and Lightning tables that plan. She’d much prefer slipping into something more comfortable – like her warm sheets – before inviting Snow to slip into her.

For a moment, Lightning wonders if she will ever tire of making love with Snow, or, more likely, if Snow will become bored with her. As both of Lightning’s previous relationships lasted only a few months, and both of those took place years ago, she has very little basis for comparison.

She was sixteen when she found herself smitten with an eighteen year old heartthrob. Lightning knew precisely nothing about sex or relationships, but she’d so badly wanted Seifer to notice and like her. So, when he called her beautiful, and told her that he wanted her, she consented, and gave him her virginity.

All things considered, the sex wasn’t _bad_. Seifer was a jerk who lied to, and cheated on her, but he wasn’t a selfish scumbag in the sack, nor did she feel particularly pressured. There are worst firsts, is the point.

They’d had a lot of sex that summer – _a lot_ – but Lightning doesn’t remember feeling the same desperate want and need that she feels with Snow.

Meh. More than likely, she’d wanted to please Seifer more than she’d actually _wanted_ Seifer, and that’s so far removed from her current experience as to be irreconcilable. Looking back, she knows that his only interest in her had been getting into her pants. Hell, part of her knew it back then, but she’d been adrift after her parents died, and flattered by the attention he’d paid her.

Walking away after catching him balls deep in one of her so-called friends had been less painful for her than her left jab, right hook and spinning wheel kick had been for him, that’s for damn sure. If he was going to go blabbing around about nailing her, then he’d have to explain to everyone how she’d kicked his fucking ass, too. Lightning left him laid out on his front porch, sporting a black eye, fat lip and fractured jaw, and never saw, or spoke to him again.

And, best of all, Seifer kept his fucking mouth shut about them.

So, lesson learned. No; _lessons_ learned. Lesson the first: never trust pretty boys or their pretty words. Lesson the second: make sure everyone knows that they underestimate her at their own peril.

She’d just turned eighteen when she met her second boyfriend, Balthier. That relationship fizzled more than ended, as Lightning had enlisted in the Guardian Corps, and Balthier had dreams of flying an airship. Lightning did her best to make time for him during basic training, but once she finished Boot Camp and received her posting, free time was sparse. Hell, one of the reasons that Serah ended up involved with NORA and Snow, ultimately leading to her branding by the fal’Cie, was because of how little time Lightning had for anything except the Guardian Corps.

She and Balthier saw less and less of one another, until one day, he was gone. Last she’d heard, he’d ended up a commissioned officer, though she’s uncertain of his exact rank. Lightning doesn’t like thinking about him, because when she does, she can’t help but wonder if he was one of the many casualties of the War for Humanity.

While Lightning hadn’t been in love with him, she had cared about him, and the possibility that she might have directly or indirectly killed him makes her sick.

The other three sexual partners Lightning had were all one-night stands. None of them were particularly disappointing, but they hadn’t been all that exciting either. Each time she’d gone looking for someone, she’d been keyed up from some sort of fight, and no amount of running, sparring, or drinking would scratch the itch, or put out the fire under her skin.

So, Lightning is flying blind when it comes to navigating this...whatever the hell it is, with Snow. She doesn’t like talking about her romantic history; several men who have learned about her one-night stands have called Lightning a slut, and too many others simply assume her to be one, only to get ugly and aggressive when she turns them down.

The entitled fuckers.

It’s not that Lightning believes that Snow would ever think or say such things about her, but there’s still some part of her that prefers to keep her past, in the past. Lightning isn’t ashamed, but there are times where she wonders if she ought to be, and it’s that part of her that wonders if Snow will look at her just a little bit different once he knows everything.

Besides, the last sexual partner she’d had was nearly two years ago. Lightning tried with one man on her birthday last year, but she just wasn’t feeling it with him, and after that. Well…

_Snow._

He was always there, lurking in the back of her mind, and she just couldn’t find anyone that was capable of diverting her attention from him long enough to catch her interest.

Not that Lightning will ever admit any of that out loud to Snow. He’s already so insufferably smug, that they’ll need a whole new apartment with a separate bedroom for his ego if he ever finds out that she’s had no lovers since meeting him. That she was _his_ from the moment she met him, even as she raged against herself. 

God help her if he ever finds that shit out.

Lightning fills DJ’s new water bowl before heading back into the bedroom. Snow is buried up to his nose under the blanket. Lightning strips down to her underwear, pulls back the covers and shrieks.

“Wha—“? Snow rolls out of the bed and crashes to the ground, feet tangled up in the sheets. He pokes his head over the other side of the bed, sleep-rumpled and completely confused. “W-what happened?”

From the center of the bed, DJ looks back and forth between the two humans, little tail thumping away.

“The dog. Is in. Our bed.” Lightning explains, for no reason whatsoever. Stamping her foot, she points at the puppy, demanding: “What the hell is he doing in our bed, Snow?”

Snow stares at the dog, looks up at Lightning, then back at the dog before saying, “I don’t know, baby. I swear, I didn’t let him on the bed.”

“Of course, you didn’t,” Lightning mumbles. _Fang is a dead woman._

_Dead!_

“Come on, Deej. Off the bed!” DJ’s ears droop, his eyes somehow – impossibly – get bigger and sadder looking, and he lets out a pathetic, mewling whine. Snow flinches – actually fucking flinches! – before saying, “No. Bad doggy. Off!”

“Oh, for fuck sake!” Lightning growls, before picking up the puppy and putting him on his blanket. “Stay here. Good boy.”

Lightning returns to the bed and begins stripping off the bed linens, determined to wash everything so that she doesn’t smell like puppy ass.

“Baby, what are you doing? I was sleeping!”

“Sorry, but I’m not sleeping on sheets that smell like dog butt, and I’m not having sex in this bed again until I change the sheets.”

“I’ll help,” Snow tells her, taking the dirty sheets to the laundry room.

“Mm hmm. I figured you would.”

* * *

By the time Lightning changes the bedding, she’s no longer in the mood for anyone slipping into anything thank-you-very-much. Snow takes the dog for a walk while Lightning warms up food for the puppy, puts the bread, jam, honey, and butter on the table, and begins cooking eggs.

“Something smells delicious,” Snow says as he strolls into the kitchen. “What’s all this?”

“Breakfast. I went to the market this morning.”

“You are a goddess.” Snow kisses her neck as she stands at the stove. “An absolute miracle.”

She turns around and hands him a plate of eggs. “Shut up and eat your eggs while they’re hot.”

Snow gives her a peck on the lips, drops into his chair and digs into his eggs. Lightning puts a carafe of coffee on the table next to a pitcher of juice. “Seriously, baby, what got into you today? This is a feast.”

“I needed to pick up food for the puppy,” Lightning points at the two dog bowls on the floor, “and figured I’d pick something up for us while I was out.”

“Look at the bowls! Did you thank your mommy for the new bowls and the yummy food, DJ?” The word mommy makes Lightning cringe again, but when she glances at Snow, she doesn’t see any indication that he’s teasing her, or trying to antagonize her. She decides to let it go. After all, telling him to stop calling her ‘Sis’ only resulted in him never using her name ever again. At least, until he realized that he wanted to fuck her. Calling her ‘Sis’ must have been a bit awkward once he had that little realization.

Lightning sits down with her meal as Snow finishes up his eggs and begins spreading jam on a piece of bread. He stuffs it into his mouth, working on a second piece when he finds the hunting rate sheet from the Butcher and asks, “What’s this?”

“I found some work.”

“Yeah? Doing what?”

“Hunting.” Snow stares at her, waiting for more information. Lightning rolls her eyes, but continues: “The destruction of the outposts cut a lot of supply lines. The Butcher needs a new supplier. I figured you and I could handle hunting some local game for him.” Snow remains silent just long enough for Lightning to add: “If you don’t want to come with me, I can handle it myself.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t want to come with you. You know me: I’m always up for an adventure with my girl.” He butters a piece of bread and puts it on her plate for her. “What are we hunting?”

“Nothing to worry about. A Svarog and Gorgonopsid.” She smiles at him as she takes a bite of the bread.

“Easy peasy, one two threesy.”

Lightning snorts and rolls her eyes. “You’re such a dork,” she says, stuffing a piece of jam covered bread into Snow’s mouth.

Snow grabs her wrist, pulls her hand to his mouth and licks her fingers clean. Holding her eyes, Snow sucks on her forefinger, flicking the pad of her finger with the tip of his tongue over and over, before pulling her hand out of his mouth and pressing a wet kiss into the palm of her hand.

“Maybe I am,” Snow murmurs, holding her open palm against his cheek; “but you love me anyway.”

Throat thick and mouth dry, Lightning can only whisper, “Yes. Yes, I do.”

* * *

The hunt goes off without a hitch. If anything, it’s even easier than she’d expected, and she and Snow leave the Butcher with food for DJ, themselves, payment from the butcher and tanner, and an assignment for the next week.

Snow has one arm around her shoulders and their score from today’s trip to the market in the other hand, as they walk back to their apartment.

“So, what should we call ourselves, Light?”

“What?”

“Well, if this is a business, it should have a name.”

 _Business? Name?_ Lightning honestly never thought about turning this into a business venture. She’d figured it was something to occupy her time until—

Until what, exactly? Until she decided to join the Guardian Corps again? Until she moved on, moved away? Until someone else decided to turn it into a business, leaving her to follow orders once again?

“Did I say something wrong?” Snow asks.

“No. I was just thinking.” Of course Snow would want to take the initiative. Isn’t that what he did in Bodham, back on Cocoon? He saw a problem and came up with a solution; he’d recruited people, organized them, and led them. If it hadn’t been for him (and his merry band of asshats), the Purge would’ve claimed even more lives than it already had. Maybe everyone.

Sure, Lightning had done a tremendous amount of damage, but she doubts that she’d have made it to the Pulse Vestige if it hadn’t been for the armed resistance efforts, organized and coordinated by Snow and NORA. One day, she’ll have to tell him that.

One day. Not today, though. He’s still too fucking smug.

“Look, if you don’t wanna do this, Light, that’s fine. Maybe it was a stupid suggestion.”

“It wasn’t,” she insists, looking into his eyes. “Stupid, that is. It wasn’t stupid, at all.” She looks away when she feels her face heating under his intense scrutiny. “I like the suggestion. What do you want to name it?”

“I don’t know. I want to know what you want to call it. It’s ours, right?”

_Ours._

Lightning feels tears sting behind her eyes, but feels stupid about them, too. Snow is turning her into a sap.

“Not NORA,” she declares, since that’s the only thing she can think to say right then. Snow belly laughs at that, shaking his head.

“No, not NORA. But one of these days, you’ll have to explain what your problem is with them.”

Like hell.

“What did your groupies call themselves again?” Fang and Snow aren’t the only ones who know how to derail a conversation.

“Oh, well, I don’t…uh.” Snow blushes scarlet, stammers some more before saying, “I don’t know. What difference does it make?”

“No, seriously. What were they called? Wait, don’t tell me! The Snowpack? No. That’s too boring. The Snowflakes? No. That’s not it. Accurate though, right? Oh, I got it!” She smirks up at him. “The Snow Blowers!”

 _“Lightning!”_ Snow squawks, sounding scandalized, and Lightning laughs so hard at him that she starts snorting and honking. If it weren’t for Snow hooking his arm around her waist, Lightning would have collapsed into a giggling puddle of girl right there on the pavement. Snow looks around before whispering, “That’s not nice!”

Snow’s so serious when he says it that Lightning almost pees herself laughing. The next thing she knows, the world upends as Snow throws her over his shoulder, planting his free hand on her ass and motoring towards home.

“Snow?”

“Yes, my love?”

“Put me down.”

“No, my love. I don’t think I will.”

“What do you mean, ‘no’?”

“Well, we’re almost home, now, and I’m eager to get there. See, I’d like to have something to eat, then strip my jealous girlfriend down, spread her out on our table, and show her why she shouldn’t care about all those groupies who followed me around.”

“I’m not jealous!”

“Ha!”

“I’m not!”

“Whatever you say, my love. Obviously, you don’t care, which is why is you think I’ve screwed every woman who hung around me.”

“I didn’t say that!”

“I’m sorry. I just let them all blow me, right?”

“It was a joke, Snow.”

“Funny.” And now she hears it: anger. Maybe a bit of hurt mixed in. _Goddamn it!_ She didn’t want to hurt his feelings, for fuck sake.

“I’m sorry, all right? I was just joking.”

“No. You were fishing for information.”

“ _No, I wasn’t!”_ Now she’s getting angry. “I _know_ you’re not a womanizer, Snow. You’ve never been anything but respectful. Until right now, that is. Now, _put me down!_ ”

“Apology accepted,” he says as he lowers her back to her feet. She scowls at him, but lets him kiss her and wrap his arm around her shoulders again. “I still have plans for you when we get home. It’s been a while since I’ve had you on the table. And this time, I’d like to bend you over it.”

 _Oh he would, would he?_ Lightning huffs in irritation. “In case you’ve forgotten, we can’t do anything on the kitchen table again because Junior will be sitting right under your feet!”

“You’re not seriously going to tell me that we can’t have sex in our apartment because of the puppy, are you?

“I’m not having sex in front of the dog!”

“Let’s make a deal, baby. Give me the chance to change your mind. If I can’t convince you in, let’s say, ten minutes, then fine. We’ll get rid of the puppy.”

“Get rid of…I don’t want to get rid of the puppy!”

“Well, I don’t want to not have sex anymore. So? Deal?”

“Fine. Ten minutes.”

He presses a kiss to her temple before whispering in her ear: “That’s five more than I’ll need, and you know it.”

* * *

Snow, it turns out, is wrong; it’s seven minutes more than he needs.

* * *

A week later, Lightning climbs out of bed before sunrise, determined to resume her daily endurance runs. If she and Snow are serious about this business venture, Lightning needs to work double-time to get herself back into fighting condition.

After Operation BoomsDay, the doctors at the infirmary had cautioned Lightning against pushing herself too hard. While Lightning managed to avoid the worst of what that camp had to offer, she hadn’t come away from her journey from Oerba unscathed. Aside from the severe blood loss, shock, concussion, and psychological trauma that she’d survived in the camp itself, Lightning had also suffered hypothermia, frostbite, dehydration, exhaustion and fatigue, a hairline fracture of the humerus, a hairline fracture of the zygomatic bone, bruised ribs, a boxer’s fracture, extensive soft tissue damage to her face, neck, torso, and unbelievably, malnutrition (apparently, Lightning lost nearly five kilos over ten days.)

The doctors warned her against over-exerting herself. They ordered her to put at least 3 kilos back on before resuming her normal workouts. As a great deal of that weight loss was due to the dehydration, Lightning had no issue putting 2 kilos back on. The next half kilo took as long as the first two, and as of today, Lightning still hasn’t managed to gain the full three kilos back.

Time is up, though, and Lightning can’t wait around anymore. At this point, she’s certain that her inactivity is having a deleterious impact on her muscle mass, tone and physical conditioning. Honestly, if Snow weren’t giving her such a workout every day, Lightning is certain that she’d have lost all her muscle tone, turning her ass and thighs into jelly.

Lightning gets dressed in the dark, grabs her communicator, earbuds and music player, and is slipping out of the room when DJ appears beside her, pawing and whining at her.

“What is it?” Lightning whispers. The puppy mewls at her. “No! Hush!”

“Wha’s wrong, Deej?” Snow grumbles from under the covers. _Damn it!_

“Nothing. Go back to sleep.”

“Wait! Where’re ya goin’?”

“For a run. DJ needs to go out, so I’m taking him with me.”

“Good. Tha’s good. S’dark. Take your knife. And communicator.”

Lightning rolls her eyes, but retrieves the hunting knife from its hiding place. “Got it. Now, go back to sleep.”

“Deej! Keep mommy safe, okay?”

“Snow—“

“Be careful, baby. Love you.” Snow’s breathing evens out, indicating that he’s fallen back to sleep.

“I love you, too,” she whispers to her sleeping lover. “Sweet dreams.” She kisses Snow’s cheek, looks at the puppy and says, “Well? Let’s go. You’d better be able to keep up, pup.”

* * *

Ten minutes of running and Lightning begins feeling fatigued and tired. The cold air burns her lungs, and her back and legs are starting to ache.

Lightning cannot believe how much work she has ahead of her to get herself back into fighting shape. She’d like to kick those doctors right in their asses, not only for restricting her activity, but for telling _Snow_ about those restrictions. If it weren’t for him, Lightning would have been out running every morning weeks ago.

Lightning pushes through her exhaustion, counting her breaths, focusing on the feel of the ground beneath her feet and the beat of the music in her ears. DJ runs alongside her, a steady, happy presence.

It’s nearly thirty minutes later when Lightning pauses in her run to take her pulse. The puppy stands a few feet from her, staring into the darkness while she stretches, jogs in place, and counts heartbeats.

DJ moves closer to her, pressing himself against her calf. Lightning reaches down to stretch, petting the puppy as she reaches for her toes, and realizes that the dog is vibrating. She tugs out her earbud to find that DJ is not shaking.

He’s growling.

DJ’s hackles are up, his lips curl back, baring a set of very intimidating teeth, considering he’s only a puppy. “What’s the matter, Deej?” Lightning whispers.

DJ starts barking and snapping at some unseen threat, and Lightning feels the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. Icy fear washes over Lightning as she thinks that she once again is about to be ambushed by her stalker. Lightning palms the knife strapped to her thigh, but doesn’t pull it. She wonders if she should dial Snow, before discarding that idea. She considers turning and running from whatever threat awaits her on the path ahead of her, when crunching behind her alerts her to two sets of footsteps closing off her path of retreat, all punctuated by the metallic click of a pistol being cocked.

A third figure steps onto the path in front of her. Whoever it is, is wearing all black, including a black [goobalini](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/784541197569725372/), and holding a gun at his side. He remains cloaked in the deep shadows created by the surrounding buildings as they obscure the light from Cocoon and its pillar. Lightning starts calculating odds of getting out of this mess uninjured, since she apparently decided to bring a knife to a gunfight.

Then she runs the odds of getting out alive at all.

“Look what we got here, boys,” the figure before her says, and Lightning’s stomach unclenches; relief and aggravation pour through her in equal measure.

It’s a fucking kid. No doubt, they’re all kids. She turns her head in an attempt to get a peek at the two behind her.

All three of these kids are armed, but only one has bothered pointing a weapon at her. Judging by their size, and the voice of the one who’d spoken, Lightning figures them to be no older than Hope. Possibly no older than Hope was when they’d first met. The one pointing the gun at her back wears a bandanna, like Snow’s, and the one beside him – the smallest of the three – has a red pompom, similar to a Moogle Pom, sticking out of the top of his hat.

Their youth will save their lives, but it won’t protect them from the smackdown that they’ve earned for themselves with this little fucking stunt.

Growling, Lightning steps backward, driving her elbow into bandanna’s nose, at the same time that she wraps her hands around the wrist and hand holding the gun. She twists his hand, sweeps his legs out from beneath him, dropping him onto his ass. Before his buddies realize what happened, Lightning has bandanna’s gun cocked and aimed at pompom’s face.

When pompom pisses his pants, Lightning rolls her eyes.

Behind her, DJ is snarling and growling, while goobalini screams. Lightning glances over, but can’t figure out what’s happening from that brief glimpse. The kid appears to be doubled over and flailing, and all she knows is that, if that kid hurt her puppy, he’s going to regret it.

Lightning will make sure that he’s the sorriest juvenile delinquent on Gran Pulse.

“Please don’t hurt me,” pompom begs, dropping his gun before bursting into tears. It’s at that point that Lightning realizes that the pompom on the kid’s hat doesn’t just resemble a Moogle Pom, but that the kid is wearing a [Moogle hat](https://www.deviantart.com/sewdesune/art/Moogle-Hat-127126558). He’s wearing a Moogle hat because he is even younger than she’d originally guessed; no more than twelve, and that’s probably being too generous.

Just. Fuck.

“Don’t hurt my brother, or cousin either. _Please!_ ” The little kid starts crying and Lightning feels sick to her stomach.

How did she end up pointing a gun at a fucking child? All she wanted to do was go for a run.

“Sit down,” Lightning orders as she kicks the gun (a toy, she realizes) away from the kids. _“Now!”_

Lightning watches the little kid fuss over the one whose nose she broke – big brother or cousin – before turning to deal with her final attacker.

Now that Lightning can get a good look at the scene before her, she realizes that DJ must’ve pounced on goobalini, either as he’d raised his weapon, or before he’d had a chance to aim his weapon at her. Right now, DJ’s jaws are clamped around goobalini’s wrist as the kid thrashes in an attempt to shake the puppy off him.

Lightning picks up the weapon that goobalini dropped, tucks it into her waistband at the small of her back, before calling the puppy. “DJ. Heel!”

At that, DJ releases his hold on the kid’s wrist and stands at her side, teeth bared.

“That dog should be put down!” Goobalini yells. “Look what he did to my arm.”

Lightning arches an eyebrow at the kid. A quick glance at the kid’s arm shows a few bloody scratches, but nothing serious. DJ is a puppy, after all. Puppy teeth are sharp, and hurt like hell, but don’t do anything close to the damage of their adult counterparts. “You’ll live. That’s more than you should expect when you corner someone and point a weapon at them.”

“Come on, Lady! We didn’t do nothin’ to you.”

“Not for lack of trying.”

“Naw, we weren’t gonna hurt ya none.”

“Right. You weren’t going to hurt me. That’s why three of you snuck up on a lone woman in the dark and pointed weapons at her.”

Bandanna speaks up, “We were just looking for money. We’re hungry.”

Lightning looks them over before saying, “No. I don’t buy it. Though considering how young that one is,” she points at the kid in the Moogle hat, “I can’t imagine what you were planning to do.”

“He told you—“

“Shut up!” Lightning snaps and all three boys recoil. “I’m keeping these guns. Even if you were looking for food, mugging people at gunpoint is not the way to get it. But if you really needed food, you’d have bought _food_ instead of guns and bullets.”

“You callin’ us liars, Lady?” Goobalini demands, as Bandanna whines, “Hey, no fair! Those are ours!”

“I said, SHUT UP!” she yells, watching the boys flinch. “Fair, would be me turning you over to the Guardians for holding me up at gunpoint in the dark. Do you have any idea how lucky you are that I didn’t just start shooting? If you’d been a little older, that’s what I would’ve done, and that’s what’ll happen if you keep pulling this kind of nonsense.”

“I don’t wanna get shot!” Moogle cries.

“Stop crying,” Lightning snaps. Sighing, she softens her voice and promises the kid: “No one is getting hurt.”

“Are you gonna turn us in?”

“I should. How do I know you’re not gonna do this to some other unarmed person, just minding their own business?”

“We won’t! We swear!” Bandanna says.

“You got our guns, Lady. How could we?” says the smartass in the goobalini.

“Where are your parents?” The looks on their faces answers her question and Lightning makes a decision that she hopes she won’t regret.

“All right, then. Since you’re all young, I’m going to give you another chance.” The boys all start thanking her, telling her how wonderful she is. Lightning rolls her eyes and yells, “Quiet! I’m not finished. If you really need money, you and you,” she points to the two older kids, “meet me and my partner here, tomorrow morning at sunrise. I’ll give you honest pay for honest work.”

“What kind of work?” Goobalini asks, suspicious.

“A hunt. You two show up, you’ll get a cut of the money, and food for the week.”

“You just said you’re takin’ our guns!” Bandanna whines. “How are we supposed to hunt?”

“First of all, you’re not going to be doing any shooting. You’re going to be watching and learning. If you show up tomorrow, and do what you’re told, then maybe next time you’ll get a weapon. I’m giving you a chance to earn money and learn a skill.” Then, she’s going to get them into the school and make sure they have someplace to live. But first things first.

“But what about me?” Whines the kid in the Moogle hat.

“How old are you?”

“I’m fifteen,” he lies.

“You lie, then the deal is off.”

“He’s eleven,” Goobalini admits. “In two weeks.”

“You brought a ten year old kid out to attack women? Really?”

“It wasn’t like that, Lady!”

“Sure looked like it to me. You two saw what you thought was an easy target: a single woman with a puppy. Were you following me, or hanging around here?”

“No, ma’am, we weren’t following you.”

“Have you robbed or hurt anyone else? Tell me now, because I will find out, and if I find out later, that’s going to go very badly for you boys.”

“No. We haven’t. Look, people usually give us money ‘cause they feel bad for us. You know—“

“You panhandle?” That’s better than mugging people.

Bandanna boy shrugs. “I don’t know what that means, Lady. I just know that if we hang out by the markets and tell people we’re hungry, some of them will give us money.”

Lightning doesn’t know if she should believe these boys. It seems foolish to do so; but she knows all too well the desperation of being orphaned and trying to feed herself and her sister.

“Okay. Fine. Tomorrow morning, right here. If you’re not here, well. I’ll know I was right and that you were lying to me about needing food and money.”

Lightning checks her thigh pouch and comes up with a credit chip. She looks at the little kid and hands it to him. “Take this, go buy yourself, your brother and your cousin something to eat. And stop pointing toy guns at people. That sort of stunt can get you hurt. Badly.”

The ten year old (for fuck sake!) sniffs and wipes his nose with the back of his hand.

“Now, get out of here. All of you.”

The three boys take off running and Lightning squats down and pets DJ. “And you, Mister Deejay. Wait until your daddy finds out what a good a boy you were today.”

DJ chuffs at her and licks her face as Lightning scratches behind his ears.

“Fang is going to be insufferable,” she mumbles, shaking her head. “You won’t tell her, right?”

DJ wags his tail.

“Damn it. She’s definitely going to find out. She always finds out.” _Know-it-all bitch._

DJ gives her his paw and whines.

“I know. I’m going to have to thank her. Goddamn it.” DJ chuffs at her. She sighs, shakes her head and smiles. “Okay. Let’s go home.”

* * *

Hours later, Lightning sits on the couch, a cup of tea on the end table, her bag of yarn on the couch beside her, knitting needles in hand, and her puppy’s head resting on her lap. When Snow emerges from the bedroom, looking all rumpled and adorable, he gives Lightning one of his killer smiles and says, “Hey, baby! What are you doing?”

Lightning lays the end of her work along the dog’s back, trying to eyeball whether or not the sweater she’s knitting is long enough yet. DJ is small and thin, and Lightning has no doubt that she can complete the sweater she’s working on by tomorrow morning.

Snow kneels down before her, petting the dog with one hand and wrapping the other one around her neck. He draws her toward him for a quick kiss before saying, “You’re knitting a sweater for Deej?”

“Uh huh. If he’s going to go running with me, he needs something to keep him warm.”

“What about me? Don’t I get a sweater?” Lightning smirks at him and pulls out the special blue yarn that she’d bought just for him. He grins at her before touching the yarn. His eyes widen in delight. “Ooh. Soft.”

“Mm.”

“For me?” He leans closer, brushing his lips against her clavicle.

“Mm hmm.”

“Really?” His lips caress her throat.

“Really.”

“You love me,” he rumbles into her ear, sending a tingle down her spine to settle in her lower back. Heat flows from the base of her spine like liquid, flooding her whole body and turning her a subtle shade of pink, before finally pooling between her thighs.

“Uh huh,” she breathes.

“And I love you.” He closes his lips around her lower lip, before moving upward and pressing his open mouth over hers. She feels the tip of his tongue touch the tip of hers before he backs away, resting his forehead against hers as his fingers run back and forth over the dark blue cashmere.

“I know.”

What else is there to say?

* * *

Snow spends the afternoon building a doghouse for DJ to sleep in, while Lightning alternates between knitting, and admiring both Snow’s proficiency with his tools, and just _everything_ about his body as he uses those tools. Lightning watches Snow’s muscles shift and bunch, stretching the fabric of his clothing taut as he saws, sands, screws, and hammers together the cozy wooden doghouse. Right then, Lightning decides that the crocheted bedspread can wait, as she needs to see (and feel) that soft, dark blue cashmere stretched over Snow’s hard muscles.

As soon as possible. Instantly would be nice, but she knows that she’ll need to take her time with something this special.

Much later, after night falls and DJ falls asleep in his new comfy doghouse, after Lightning cooks and Snow cleans up, after Lightning finishes knitting the tiny sweater for the puppy, and spends way too much time measuring (and touching, and kissing) every part of Snow’s upper body for her next project, Lightning tells Snow about the two boys that may be joining them the next morning.

Snow’s eyebrows disappear into his hairline as he asks, “I’m probably gonna hate this, and really regret asking: what prompted this?”

Lightning climbs into bed, then immediately straddles her irresistible lover. Snow’s hands find her thighs as she leans in and brushes her lips against his. “Let’s just say that they need money, and I know a certain hero who’s a sucker for hard luck cases.”

One of Snow’s hands slips into her hair as his mouth closes over hers. When he flicks his tongue against her lips, she sighs, touching the tip of her tongue against his. When Snow tries to deepen the kiss, Lightning pulls away, enjoying the feeling of his soft skin beneath her hands, and the slow burn of the teasing, shallow kisses.

“Mm. Light?”

Lightning slides her tongue into his mouth, twisting it beneath his before backing away to see if he’ll give chase. Snow groans, tightens the hand in her hair and plunders her mouth with his tongue. Lightning closes her lips around his tongue and sucks until he whimpers and rolls her beneath him, settling between her legs.

Wrapping her arms around Snow’s neck, Lightning slides her fingers into his hair and spends a long time making out with him. Each time he breaks the kiss to move away, she captures his lips again, licking into his mouth with gentle flicks of her tongue. When she feels dizzy from the lack of air, she breaks the kiss but holds him fast. Snow presses his forehead to hers while he pants for air.

“Make love to me,” Lightning suggests.

Groaning, Snow surges forward and claims Lightning’s mouth again. This time, when he tries to deepen the kiss, Lightning surrenders and allows him to plunder her mouth. Snow’s hands cradle Lightning’s jaw, then trace down over her clavicle, sliding outward to her flanks to work their way downward. He cradles her breasts in his palms, gently squeezing, running his thumbs across the peaks before continuing downward.

Snow’s fingers trace the lines of her ribs as his thumbs run over her navel. When he reaches the hem of her tank top, both hands worm their way beneath the material and retrace their path upward, taking her shirt with them. He circles her navel, flicking the piercing, before covering both breasts with the palms of his hands. A quick rub is all he has time for in his quest to undress her.

Snow breaks the kiss, sits up, yanks off her shirt and immediately turns his attention to her bared breasts. Snow’s fingers pluck and roll one nipple as he runs the flat of his tongue across the other until she groans. At that point, he begins to suck and rub her, switching between them until she arches her back.

Snow slips his hand inside her pants, fingers teasing around her clit before he slips one inside her body. “You’re already so wet for me, baby.”

Withdrawing his finger, he sits up, grabs the waistband of her pajama pants and pulls them off her, then shucks his own before settling alongside her again.

“Turn over for me.”

Lightning isn’t sure what Snow is planning, but as he’s never done anything that didn’t feel fucking amazing, she’s willing to indulge him. She rolls over onto her stomach, resting her head on her folded arms.

Snow grabs her hips and lifts them, slipping a pillow beneath them.

“What—“

“Relax.” Snow settles along her back, nudging her legs apart to make room for himself.

When she feels him seeking out her entrance, she shifts her hips, bends her knees a bit, and then it’s perfect. Snow leans forward and eases into her a little at a time, adjusting his angle each time he thrusts into her, until he hits her in just the right spot to make Lightning groan and rock back onto him.

“There it is.”

Smug bastard. But oh fuck, does that feel good.

Snow lays along her back, elbows bracing him up, hands covering hers where she clutches the sheets. Snow whispers a litany of absolute filth into her ear as he rocks into her over and over, rubbing against her sweet spot each withdrawal, and taking care to hit her deep inside every other thrust.

When Lightning’s muscles start clenching in anticipation, Snow slides his hand between her legs. Lightning grinds forward against Snow’s talented hand, and backward against his hips. The pressure builds, pleasure winding her muscles tighter and tighter until finally, like an overtightened guitar string, the last shreds of her control snap. She comes hard, body clenching, grinding forward onto his long, working fingers, and shoving backward, onto his long, thick cock, hips pumping and circling, desperate to ride the wave as long as possible.

She hears Snow grunt as he thrusts into her hard, once. Twice. Then he says her name as he comes, hips jerking against her as her body flutters around him. When he finally collapses onto her back, they’re both panting and sweaty. His fingers tap against her one more time, and she spasms like he’s running a live current through her.

“Holy fuck,” she declares, and Snow chuckles against the back of her neck.

“You said it, Girl.”

“I like this position.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah. Definitely.”

“Good. I’ll keep that in mind.” Snow rolls off her and runs his fingers up and down her spine. After a few quiet minutes, Snow says, “So, you really bought that yarn for me?”

Lightning raises an eyebrow at him. “Of course. Why does that surprise you?”

“I don’t know. I guess I just never imagined you knitting me a sweater.”

“If you don’t want—“

“No!” Snow blurts. “Of course, I want it. I’ll love it.”

“You don’t know that,” she says, embarrassed without understanding exactly why. “It may come out terrible.”

“I’ll love it no matter what, just like I love you.” Lightning feels tears threatening to form once again, and swallows the lump in her throat. “But I know it won’t come out terrible. Everything you do is amazing.”

“You’re such a sap sometimes,” she jokes, trying to bury the emotions that he’s stirring up with his unguarded words. Even after knowing him over a year, and living with him for weeks now, Snow’s open and candid declarations of affection still take her by surprise all the time. It’s not the love itself that surprises her. Not anymore, anyway. It’s how fearlessly, and how often he expresses it.

Lightning feels as if she’s going to choke on her own tongue every time she tells Snow she loves him. It’s not that she doesn’t love him. She does. So much so that she can hardly believe it; but, even though she adores him, she cannot dispel the guilt she feels, both for hurting Serah, and for ever admitting to that love in the first place.

Loving Snow and admitting to that love was an act of selfishness, and Lightning dreads the day when she will have to answer for it. She just cannot believe that fate, or the gods, or her stalking eldritch horror, will allow her to continue on, living with her stolen happiness, with no comeuppance whatsoever. One day, Lightning knows that she will lose everything.

Moreover, she’ll deserve it.

But for right now, she has this stolen moment with Snow, and she plans to enjoy it, and all the ones that follow, until everything goes straight to hell.

“When have I ever pretended otherwise?” Snow asks, dragging her to him and snuggling against her back.

Lightning shakes her head, blinking the tears out of her eyes. “You know, I’ve been thinking about that name.”

“Name?” Snow mumbles into her hair. “Oh! The _name_ ,” he says, sounding both surprised and pleased. “And?”

“What do you think about ThunderFrost? Or ThunderFrost & Associates, if our friends want to help out?” Since Snow wanted the business to be theirs, she wanted something that represented both of them. Lightning hopes that he likes the name and isn’t offended that she didn’t ask his input, but after she’d hurt his feelings that day, he never brought it up again. Rather than poke the bear, Lightning spent the whole week going back and forth between a few different options and she’s decided that she likes this one the best.

She just hopes he hasn’t changed his mind.

Tightening his hold around her waist, Snow presses a kiss against the nape of her neck. “I love you.”

* * *

As she dials the number, Lightning already regrets everything about this decision. Fang is going to be insufferable.

“Wow, Sunshine! To what do I owe the honor?”

Lightning sighs into the communicator. “Thank you.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me!”

“I don’t think I did, Gumdrop. Care to repeat that?”

“No.”

“What do ya mean, ‘no’?”

“I mean, ‘no.’ Did you go deaf all of a sudden?”

“Ooh. Someone’s got her panties in a wad. What’s the problem, honey pot?”

Lightning’s heart rate speeds up, then stutters. Her body starts shivering as her face burns, and she sounds unhinged when she all but shrieks: “Don’t ever call me that again! Not ever.”

“ _Oh_ -kay?”

Lightning sighs, feeling awful about tearing Fang’s head off. “Sorry.”

“S’okay.”

“No, it’s not. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. You didn’t know.”

“Know what, exactly? Care to share?”

She really doesn’t want to share, but she knows that she has no real choice now that she’s yelled at Fang over it. “That’s what _he_ calls me.”

“He?”

“The guy who attacked and drugged me. He started calling me that back in the camp, and kept it up all through the abduction.”

“Oh, fuck me. I’m sorry. If I’d known—“

“I know. Don’t worry about it. There’s no way you could’ve known. But please…just, call me anything but that. Okay?”

“Sure thing, Sweat Pea.” Fang pauses and then says: “We’re gonna find that scumbag. Don’t you worry ‘bout that.”

“Sure; but seriously, thank you.”

“Anytime, Sunshine.”

* * *

~fin~

**Author's Note:**

> When choosing the names of Lightning's two past boyfriends, I chose characters from previous Final Fantasy games so the characters wouldn't be completely unfamiliar to readers.
> 
> If you don't know them, Seifer is from FFVIII. He's Squall's rival, and becomes one of the main antagonists of the game, though I'd never call him the villain. He's just as much a victim of the villains as the protagonists are, and is redeemed by the end.  
> Balthier is from FFXII, and he's 'The Leading Man.' (Something he calls himself). I really love this character. If you haven't played this game, I hope you will consider doing so. Balthier has a great story, so I won't say more than he's the Leading man, and he's a Sky Pirate.
> 
> I decided to choose characters from other games rather than just pick random names as I figured it would give readers a reference point for them, more than anything else. I have no plans to include these characters in upcoming stories, so if you don't know or like them, don't worry.
> 
> Final note: I do not like or use the word ‘slut’ to describe anyone, nor do I believe that there’s anything wrong with one-night stands. I don’t consider the behavior I described in this story to be promiscuous, but even if it were, there’s nothing wrong with that behavior. As long as it’s consensual and safe, then it’s no one’s business.  
> What Lightning was expressing is the dissonance caused by internalized misogyny, which unfortunately, is far too common. I apologize if I offended anyone with the language. I don’t usually feel obligated to explain my reasoning for using offensive language, but slut-shaming is far too commonplace.  
> I’ve also found that too many romance stories portray the female protagonist as a clueless virgin. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with being a virgin, but there’s also no reason that a woman who isn’t a virgin can’t be the female lead in a romance.  
> Sorry if that came across as preachy. As long as I’m explaining my thought processes about characterization, I figured I’d explain it all.


End file.
